


Always

by ceruleanshark



Series: Dark Lords of Arda [11]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cute dark lords, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Mai overworks himself, Mel is a worried boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 07:05:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13699380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanshark/pseuds/ceruleanshark
Summary: Mairon works himself too hard. Melkor cares for him.





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> This is something quick I wrote for Valentine's day. Dedicated to my friends on Discord, as always, for enabling my dork lord obsession.

Smoke billowed dark from the forge as Mairon heated the slender curve of the blade, melding the metal together seamlessly. Sparks leapt across his hands, but he paid them no heed. His shoulders strained with the effort of swinging his hammer in steady arcs down on the glowing metal.

He worked tirelessly despite the deep ache in his tense muscles, eyes narrowed against the smoke.

The door swung soundlessly open, the sudden blast of cold air making Mairon look up from his work. A figure foreboding to all but Mairon, his master strode into the forge. The Silmarils glowed brightly in his iron crown.

“Mairon. What are you doing still at work after such a long time? You've been in this forge for an entire day, at the least.” Melkor rested a hand on Mairon's arm, fingers black against the leather bracers.

“I'm not finished, my lord. The alloys were impure at first, and then--” He let out a frustrated sigh, eyes closing for a heartbeat.   
Melkor reached out and touched Mairon's fëa with his own, feeling the annoyance and tension coiled there. “Rest, little flame. Your work for the day is done. Come with me.” 

The Maia reluctantly cooled the blade and set his tools aside. His hands ached from clenching on the smooth metal and wood of the hammer and tongs. He straightened up slowly, back throbbing painfully with the movement.

Melkor wordlessly took his hand, unheeding of the furnace-heat lingering in Mairon's palm. “Follow me.” Melkor whispered.

Mairon allowed himself to be led out of his forge and through the small maze of corridors. By the time they reached their shared quarters, his limbs felt leaden. He hadn't realized how truly exhausted he was.

As Melkor turned to ignite the fireplace with a mere thought, Mairon stripped off his apron, boots, and gloves. Before he could store them in their usual places, Melkor wrapped his arms gently around him.

“I need to put these up--” Mairon broke off with a groan of relief as Melkor’s power briefly surged into him, draining the tension from his muscles. He felt his legs give out, but Melkor easily caught him before he could crash to the stone floor.

Before Mairon could speak, Melkor levitated his discarded clothes and shoes into their proper places. He kissed Mairon's forehead as he undid his braid, running his fingers through the thick red hair.

Melkor carried Mairon over to their bed and slid beneath the covers with him, wrapping his arms securely around his Maia. 

“Have you been feeling unappreciated again?” Melkor asked quietly, lips brushing the curve of Mairon's ear. “I know you, precious. When you shut yourself away for so long, something isn't right.”

“I suppose I have.” Mairon admitted. “Nothing has been going according to my theories, and you have been busy.” 

Melkor sat up and gestured at the heavy curtains over the window, which swung themselves open to reveal the starry expanse of the sky.

Mairon immediately perked up, gazing out at the night sky while nestled in Melkor's arms. He felt his hair detangle with a rush of Melkor's power, the Vala beginning to hum softly. The song resonated through his fëa, bringing a relaxed smile to his face.

He hummed in time with his master, glowing faintly with power. The stars outside the huge window were cold points of fire against the velvety darkness. 

Mairon realized faintly that his hair was being twisted into a neat braid. Melkor whispered a soft word of power, and a sudden glow made Mairon crane his neck to look at the long red plait.

Tiny silver sparks glowed in the elegant braid, the same cold fire of the stars trapped in little crystals that studded his hair. Mairon couldn't stifle his soft gasp of delight. Melkor smiled.

“You are beautiful like this, Mairon. You deserve the stars themselves. I would lay the universe at your feet.” Melkor kissed the top of his head, smoothing one hand down Mairon's back. 

“Melkor.” He whispered, overwhelmed by both exhaustion and love. Turning to look into his mirrorlike eyes, he saw nothing but admiration there.

“I am so in love with you, little flame.” Melkor whispered, before leaning in to kiss him softly. Mairon melted into his arms, the feeling of their lips pressed together making him light-headed.

“I love you too. I believe I always will.” Mairon curled up contentedly, eyes closing as he adjusted his position. Melkor casually mingled their fëar, the familiar intimacy making warmth spread through Mairon's chest.

As the Maia drifted off to sleep, his Vala spoke, voice deep and low. “Always, my love. We are as one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
